Page 55 of Trust Me

His eyebrows lift. “No. Not since this morning. I thought she had that big meeting with you and the VPs.”

I grind my teeth. “Thanks,” I murmur as I move past his desk and head down the hall to her office.

From the office windows, I can see the lights are out and there’s no one at her desk. “She better not be wasting company time,” I mumble while twisting the knob.

“Riley,” I call out as I barge into the office.

There’s no answer.

But she’s in here. Call it crazy or intuition. I canfeelher presence.

I charge inside of the office. “Riley, what f—” I stop short when I find her crumpled in a ball behind her desk.

“Riley, what’s wrong?” I crouch down.

“Shshsh, please,” she mutters, the words coming out on a croak. “Not so loud.”

“Why are you down here?”

Her face tightens into a grimace with every word I say. Though she covers her ears to keep from hearing me, she responds, “I-Is the meeting over? I sent Charlotte to take notes on what I missed.”

Instead of answering, I reach down and place the back of my palm to her forehead. “Are you sick? Is it the flu? Do you need a doctor?”

“Please lower your voice.”

I know I hadn’t been yelling or speaking above a normal conversational tone. I stand and move to turn on the light in her office. As soon as the light comes on, Riley groans out in agony.

“No, please. Turn it off,” she hisses.

I turn it off, shrouding us in semi-darkness again. Yet even with the blinds drawn in her office, we’re not in complete darkness.

“It’s j-just a m-migraine. It’ll go away s-soon,” she stammers out.

“Just?”

She looks like she’s in so much anguish, and I can’tnotdo something. I have never experienced migraines, but I’ve heard they can be extremely painful and debilitating.

“Do you have any medication?”

“Mmm,” she moans and shakes her head a little. That slight movement causes her to hiss and squeeze her eyes even tighter. “Ran out.”

I glance up at her desk to see an empty prescription bottle with a white lid sitting next to it. I grab the bottle, and sure enough, it’s empty.

I crouch down, afraid to touch her because I don’t want to create more pain for her.

“It’ll be fine. I can get up and drive home soon. I’m sorry about missing the meeting.” Her voice gets lower with each word.

“Fuck the meeting,” I say without thinking. “There’s no way you should be driving anywhere.”

I don’t know how long her migraine usually lasts, but considering she missed a ninety-minute meeting, I’m betting it’ll be at least a few more hours before she’s any better.

It’s a little after three in the afternoon. I have a shit ton of other work to do, but I make a split decision.

Pulling out my phone, I call Mike’s desk.

“Have a driver waiting for me by the private elevator in five minutes.”

I disconnect the call and kneel by Riley. “Riley?” I make my voice as low as possible.